


Boromir: Stay, Don't Go

by skysonfire



Series: Sean Bean [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Captain of the White Tower, F/M, Fellowship of the Ring, Gondor, High Warden of the White Tower, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Smut with a Story, The White Tree of Gondor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 00:41:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5143997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skysonfire/pseuds/skysonfire





	Boromir: Stay, Don't Go

The White Tree weeps in the fading light of a day seasoned by unnaturally icy winds. She watches its branches sway, each leaf dancing with the next in a shimmering choreograph, splashing about the pinks that reflect off the clouds like so much fiery candy.

The warmth of the hearth blazes before her, and the evening's breeze fans the flames, the air surrounding her an uncertain merger of warmth and cold.

When he hands her the chilled tankard, she is keenly aware of the shape of him -- broad shoulders, strong hands, narrow waist. His face is painted with shadows from the flickering fire, but she admires the specific shape of his nose, the curve of his chin, the lines of his cheeks and the brilliant flash of his boyish eyes, so hooded. When he smiles, he transforms into something so sprite-like, without a care, even though she feels he carries with him all the cares in the world.

He kneels beside her and brushes his mouth along the shield of her ear.

"I would be pleased if you were to stay," he says, his voice low in the back of his throat. She wants to tell him that she will, but her eyes wander back to the tree through the window -- always moving, always changing.

She turns to face him and places her hand on the silk that wraps his arms. He is solid from years of wielding his sword, and she pushes the tips of her fingers into the muscles that braid themselves about his bones.

He touches his hand against her face and brings his lips to hers, his close-clipped beard testing the soft flesh of her face.

The heat builds about her and within, and she opens her mouth to taste him. He is honey and earthy and wanting like the desert. He smells like the south, and she pushes her hand through the quilted softness of his tunic to touch the heat of his skin.

Her heart pounds and his fingers unlace her bodice. She wants to watch him, but she squeezes her eyes against the speed of the pumping between her thighs. She consumes his mouth and wrenches his tunic, a desperate desire escaping with a huff through her nose.

He exposes her flesh to the last light of the day as he draws her onto the floor, his hand reaching between her knees, pushing her apart. She grasps at his hair and he bites at her throat, which beats anticipation and yearning.

"Boromir," she breathes, taking a moment to watch him as he drinks in the sight of her body spread before him.

"I ..." she starts, but he is running his thumbs along her hip bones and pressuring the fullness of her thighs.

He dips his head down, and as his kiss reaches her fiery middle, she throws her arms over her head and arches her back. His tongue is so fast and measured against her swollen sex. She writhes and moans, but his calloused hands hold her in place.  
She can feel the budding of sweat on her brow and she rotates her hips in time with his mouth. Pressure, flutter and draw. He commands her, and she lets him pull her, her knees splayed wide.

Her heart in her ears, her breath short, she explodes on his tongue, allowing the feeling to wrack her body and drive her dilated eyes back like a dark magic. Her blood rushes, and the whites of Gondor turn red with the fury of her pleasure.

When her breath settles, he brings a fur throw about her spent frame. She lifts her back from the floor and touches his face, his beard damp with her essence.

"Stay," he whispers. But darkness has taken the land, and the tree is gone from her sight.

She pulls him close to hide the mist in her eyes, building to rain. She sighs.

"Don't go," she counters. "Don't go."


End file.
